


Separated at Mutation

by KnightOn



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Gen, all of their names are changed except for Leo btw, but i don't have the stomach to write that kind of thing so, hints of animal abuse, maybe violence later, some circus stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightOn/pseuds/KnightOn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Master Splinter thought Leonardo was the only turtle to survive the mutation. As it turns out, he was completely wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Renaissance Painter

Splinter immediately retreated into the sewer after being mutated. He didn't even give consideration to his newly purchased bale of turtles - he thought for certain they had died on impact to the city concrete. But as he rushed to the manhole cover, tense from the sirens of police cars and ambulance vehicles, he felt a tug at his obscene new feature of a rat tail. Lightning reflexes snapped to catch his assailant - but he was suprised that his attacker was nothing more than a little boy. 

Except it wasn't a boy but his little baby turtle, mutated like him, tears in his eyes and a little three-fingered fist clenched around the tail like his life depended on it.

And he guessed, that really, it did.

Unsure of what more to do, and becoming uncomfortably aware of the sounds of approaching humans, the master once human scooped up the little mutant and clambered down into the sewers below; not once wondering if perhaps the others were still alive. They couldn't be. This one, this one little reptile boy was the strongest of them all.

And the one most suited, most priveleged enough to learn the ways of his clan.

He would name him Leonardo, after his favorite master of the arts and sciences. And he knew he would be a true warrior.


	2. Cardboard Creature

Two gangly men approached the little body that was huddled into a dark corner, tucked inside a discarded cardboard box. They knew he had been there for a week now, as they had been slipping him food now and again. They thought he was so amazing, a turtle the size of a toddler and with the behaviors of a human. And then some. Sometimes he bit them, snapped at them, growled and hissed. He'd take his little offerings - pieces of lettuce, chopped fruits, chips, even hamburger meat - and hide in the shadows of his box.

But he was growing fast and getting too big for it. Tucked rightly into a corner he took up about half of his dirty cardboard home. So they brought him a new one, coaxing him into it with food. The men felt privileged to be seeing him completely, even if it was only in the light of flickering street lamps. 

He was a beat up, skinny thing; if he wasn't already a freak of nature, his appearance just added to it all. He had a large scar, still fresh, probably from a fight with some stray dogs, they figured; not that they had ever seen him leave his box, but he must have. Most of his nights outside were a brutal struggle for survival.

He approached the new box on shaky legs, overly trustworthy of these men who had fed him and watched over him as he slept. Once he was inside, his little heart pounded against his chest as the box was turned upright. He looked up and snarled at the men looking down on him.

"Hey, chill out little dude." One of them coaxed with a gloved hand, fingers calloused. "We just wanna help you. It's gonna snow tonight and we don't want you to get sick." And suddenly his hissing stopped. He stood upright, barely able to reach over the top of the box, and grabbed forcefully at the man's gloved hand.

"Help."

The men looked at him in shock, the one holding the box nearly dropping it completely. They glanced at each other, before the taller of the two cursed under his breath.

"Man...we've really got something on our hands here." The shorter, but with brighter eyes, looked back down at their little turtle friend.

"We should name him."

"Dude, no."

"We should! I mean, if we're gonna bring him inside to the others, we should. We can't just call him 'mutant turtle dude', right?"

The men walked while they spoke, their little discovery sitting contently in the middle of the box, still highly aware of his situation and probably plotting his escape, if he needed to.

"Well...he's pretty tough, for a little guy. But it should be a name that's easy for us and no one else. So we can teach him stuff."

The two walked in silence together considering their options. They reached the bottom of the stairs when the bright-eyed one spoke up.

"Zhàndòujī."

" _Zhàndòujī?_ "

"Yeah, it means, like, 'fighter'. Or 'warrior', 'soldier', y'know. We could call 'im 'Zhàn' for short too."

"Well..." The tallest gazed down at the turtle, who was slowly drifting off to sleep, drowsy from the heavy warmth of the abandoned building. He smiled. "Yeah. I kinda like that. Zhàn. Pretty cool."

They walked up the stairs to the door of the second floor, gave the secret knock, quietly as to not disturb the hatchling. A big, burly man opened the door, raising a thick eyebrow at the turtle in the box, who looked up at him with accusing, toxic-green eyes.

"You actually brought 'im in, huh?"

"Winters are brutal in the city," the taller one said, pushing his way in and clutching the box at its sides, "couldn't have this little guy gettin' sick." He dropped the box on top of a table and peered inside.

"Hey there. I'm Tsoi." He said, then gestured to the others. "That big guy is Sid, and that scrawny little punk over there is Fong." The turtle gazed up at Tsoi, studying his features. He had a beard, short hair and a scary tattoo on his arm. Sid was big and wore a headband. Fong wore a leather vest, even though it was so cold out.

"Did you name 'im?" Sid asked, locking the door and walking in big strides over to the box. Tsoi left the room, apparently intent on giving all the spotlight to Fong.

"Yeah. Zhàndòujī. But we call him Zhàn. For short." Fong said, straightening his back in pride. But it seemed that Sid had ignored him, hypnotized by the strange creature in front of him. And completely out of nowhere, Sid scooped up the turtle and held him close in his arms. He tried to fight back but the warmth from Sid's large body was too difficult to enjoy. 

"He's freezing. Turtles need heat lamps, y'know." The turtle in question yawned loudly. Fong returned with a wool blanket, and helped Sid tuck the creature into it while he clutched to Sid's clothing. With an unwavering expression Sid returned his gaze. "Do ya like that name? Zhàn?"

The door then opened, revealing their leader, who strode in with an air of confidence to him.

"You got him, then?" He asked, voice smooth and fitting to the warmth of the small room.

"Yeah." Sid said, without looking up. "Zhàn, this is Xever. He's our leader."

But Zhàn had already fallen asleep, comfortable in his adopted home.


	3. #6194

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i've been so sporadic with chapter length and details; i have big ideas for this fic in the future and i promise to do my best with them!! also, there will be some hints at animal abuse in certain chapters, but if you find yourself uncomfortable with the way i'm writing those scenes, please do let me know!

It was an incredible find, really. The poor thing had nearly been run over in the busy New York city streets. It was just pure luck those medical trainees saw him during their bus trip back to the university. Pure luck that they rescued him and brought him to a veterinary clinic, who had brought him to the labs. Private labs, specializing in the field of specialty creatures and experimentation. The diagnostic from the vet concluded he was very healthy, despite a strange case of diastema. But they supposed that was the last thing someone would notice.

The scientists gladly took him in. How could they pass up an oppurtunity like this? Such a strange, fascinating creature. He gazed at them, curious and wonderful, sitting on the cold slab of metal that was their examination table. He shivered, not knowing much now but smart enough to realize the kind of things these men were capable of. He had seen the other animals on his way in; oh, they tried to shield his young eyes. But they couldn't. He was a curious little thing. Unfortunately, fear was instilled right away. There were no creatures that looked as scientifically marvelous as him, but they all looked as though they were in some sort of pain. He tried to shy away but he couldn't, he couldn't look away from the horror around him. He was so afraid.

But something deep inside him, some sort of passion in his little heart, burned for knowledge. He felt that wherever he had come from was a place of honor and loyalty, an unwavering desire for justice; a tactical, intelligent place. So he stared at the scientists, stuck under the bright light and surrounded by a chemical smell, his body unsure but his heart stronger and his mind even _stronger_ , more _willing_ than that.

So when they did nothing to him and simply placed him in a small cage, a tag hanging off the cage door with numbers on it, he knew that was how he would be known. The idea of him ever recieving a real name was far, far off. 

But if he was to be known as a set of four numbers, than so be it. They may have given him numbers as a name, but he would hold onto it. Treasure it. It would be the only thing to keep him steady. He would learn, he would grow; and one day, he would take everything that they might take from him.

He would never let slip the honor inside him.


	4. Birthday Present

The owner of the pet shop took him in first. 

It was a frantic decision, and hell, it was probably illegal or something; but even though he hated working there, hated most of the animals they sold because they bit and scratched and screeched, he couldn't leave this little guy out in the dark.

Because he was actually crying - full blown tears, and wailing like a baby. When he ran towards the scene after hearing all that noise he didn't expect to find this. He tried to leave him but those big eyes, damn those big eyes, and those adorable freckles - oh, how could he?

So he brought him inside, called his roommates with a fake emergency, and stayed up all night with him. Walking him around the store, around storage, anything to keep him quiet. Gave him some of that gross packaged turtle food, and soon enough he was out like a light, curled up in a huge glass tank under a heat lamp.

He had to wonder what happened to the others, though. There were four of them, weren't there?  
\--  
He hadn't really spent the night there, had he?

The alarm on his phone buzzed off in his pocket and he jerked awake. He had fallen asleep at the store, on the break room couch, and he felt disgusting. He stared up at the ceiling before he realized why he was even there. He jumped up and ran towards the front of the store; to find the little toddler-sized turtle just waking up. He sighed, and pulled him up and out of the tank. He was still half asleep, but he enjoyed the company and the feeling of being held so he cuddled into the store clerks arms, wrapping himself around him.

"Ah, jeez, let go kid..." He mumbled, trying to pull him off but failing; his grip was incredibly tight. 

So what was he supposed to do now? Could he sell this thing? He should just quit now; this was getting ridiculous. But he couldn't just leave him. Whatever had happened, this turtle was special. If he was adopted by the wrong people...he couldn't even imagine what would happen. He was too small. The thought of him being hurt or-

There was a knock on the shop door. He looked up and saw a man, looking in the shop windows. He didn't look like trouble, but he wasn't going to take any chances. As quickly as he could he pulled the turtle off him, dropped him back into the tank and brought him into the break room. Before he left to open to door he knelt in front of the tank.

"Just hang on, all right? I'll be back as soon as I can..."

He rushed back to open the front door. "Can I help you?"

The man walked in, almost unsure of himself. He looked about, taking in the dimly lit pet shop. He was a tall man, clean shaven and well rested. A family man, by the look of it. He'd guess otherwise if it weren't for his childish blue eyes.

"Yeah, listen..." the man began, leaning close to the store clerk, "I was there, last night. I wanna help you."

"E-excuse me?"

"The turtle. I saw you take the turtle. The one with the freckles, I think?" The clerks eyes darted about before returning, more serious, to the well dressed business man.

"Yeah, what about him?

"I want him."

"What for? Can't just hand him off to anyone, y'know. Could be dangerous."

"Look, I want to help you. I really do. I don't want to see that thing end up on some lab table, ok? I've got the perfect place for him too. It's my daughter's birthday today. I want to surprise her with something really special. If you let me buy him, I can guarantee he'll get proper medical care, a loving home, and good food. Please."

The store clerk leaned back a little, considering his options. The guy looked well off enough to be telling the truth. He had brought up a lab table, which was a little too specific for him. Still...

"...Alright. Alright, I'll sell him to you. But give me your contact information. I want to be sure he's okay."

"Fine. And thanks. He's going to be alright, I swear."  
\--  
Roger fastened the pink bow loosely around the little turtle's neck. The poor thing was sleepy, exhausted just from having to be social and interact with people. And a very secretive trip to the vet didn't help to keep him awake. Homes were warm and cozy, he began to learn, and it made him drowsy. But he liked it.

Roger was the businessman's name. He had heard it being said over and over on the way to his little home in the boroughs, and the more he heard it, the more he began to trust him. But he found himself trusting almost anyone who would cradle him in their arms when he was sleepy.

Now, he sat in a basket, blankets cushioning the woven wood around him. 

"Come on, little guy. Just stay awake for a little longer, ok?" Roger urged quietly, patting his little head and stepping backwards.

He heard him call someone's name - a girl's name, maybe - and suddenly no one was in the room. The mutant turtle began letting his head fall forward a little, too tired to keep his eyes open. But before he could sleep he heard a sound that jolted him awake. It was small, but close.

He opened his eyes to find a small face with large, brown eyes staring at him. It was making cooing noises, trying to grab at him but being held back by something. He didn't even care about what else was around him. Gently, he reached out his hand and held the small one being offered to him.

"I think they're gonna be good friends, don't you?" The voice of Roger asked from behind the smaller being.

"Oh, dear..." A sweet, gentle, calm voice responded. Roger knelt and leaned in between the two of them.

"Michelle, this is your new friend. Do you want to give him a name?" The small human named 'Michelle' gave a delighted noise in response.

"What about 'Michael', dear?"

"Michelle and Michael, huh? What do you think sweetie?"

Michelle clapped her and the turtle's hands together in agreement. And a friendship was sealed.


	5. Questions

"Sensei..."

"Focus, Leonardo. You will get used to this. Meditation is good for you."

Leonardo opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. The room was warm, heavy with the smell of incense. It was a quiet little abode they had made for themselves these past few years. Leonardo loved training, loved meditation, loved being around Splinter. Still, he couldn't help but feel like something was missing.

"I am focusing, Sensei. I just..." He hunched over, letting his body go limp. He stared down at his little bandaged hands. In the silence, he could feel his father's strong eyes settle on him.

"Is something the matter, Leonardo?" He kept his posture. He didn't expect his little protege to always keep his composure, but he was getting suprisingly close. He worked so hard. Too hard. He watched Leonardo's eyes shift.

"I-I don't know. It's just...I've been meditating, like you said, all the time, and I've been thinking a lot too, even though I know I'm supposed to clear my head and I do I do but when I meditate I feel...weird." Splinter let himself relax a little, pinning his ears back slightly. He gave his son's ramblings a little thought.

"...Weird how, my son?" 

"I don't know, sensei. When I close my eyes and I focus I just think about...well, me. I wonder...if there's anyone else out there, on the surface, like...like us." Leonardo looked up at his master, blue eyes shining with wonder and curiousity. "Are there, sensei? People like us?"

Splinter's face fell. He knew this would come up eventually. He just didn't think it would be so soon. The years had simply flown by.

"I do not wan't to withhold this from you any longer, Leonardo. There were people like us. However...your mutation did not go as planned. You were the only one strong enough to survive. I am sorry, my son. But it is just us, now."

Leo's eyes widened. He dropped his head again. "I just...didn't wan't to end up alone. I thought that if there were others..."

Splinter was suprised. "But you are not alone, Leonardo."

"I'm not now!" He shouted, words echoing on the sewer walls. "But I know you won't always be here and-and I'm..." Leonardo choked on his words, sniffling, tears slipping to the floor. "I-I'm s-scared, d-dad..." He let his composure slip and he doubled over, sobbing in front of his master, embarrased but no longer caring.

Splinter sighed. He couldn't blame his son. He just wished he had had more time. He leaned forward and picked him up, holding him close. Truthfully, he was also afriad. He had lost so much already. He couldn't bear the thought of loosing his adopted son, or leaving him all alone in this big, scary world he didn't understand. He was old and getting older. There was nothing he could do.

He wasn't sure what to say. Instead he just held Leonardo as he cried. He couldn't tell him things were going to be ok, that things would work themselves out. He was too smart for that, despite his young age. He would never buy into that kind of lie.

He wished he would stay this little forever.


	6. Midnight

They came for him late at night.

It was another quiet night, with very little gang movement. All Purple Dragons, aside from Xever, sat in the quiet, sharpening their tools, practicing their techniques. And little Zhàn, the adopted unofficial mascot of their team, sat watching them, amazed. He thought their movements so fluid, so precise. When they would begin to slow he would chant "fight, fight!!" to encourage them. It was also his favorite word.

Perhaps as far as toddlers go he hadn't learned all the words he needed to. No one really had the time or patience to teach him, but he listened and learned from the words he heard them say. He also didn't leave the base much, so they had given him books and games to play while they were out. There was no telling how much attention they would draw if they went out with a toddler-sized turtle.

They told Zhàn to stay away from the windows as much as possible. They were trying to keep a low profile, and protect him at the same time. But the curious little turtle couldn't be held back for long.

One early morning when their little discovery awoke - naturally not finding anybody or anything aside from his usual porridge breakfast laying around - he discovered a window had been left cracked open. It was a chilly morning, so he thought it best to close it. That's what he had been taught to do, to keep the heat in.

Young Zhàn approached the window and stood on his toes to pull it down. But before he could, he saw three people on the streets below in dark colored hoodies.

Looking right at him.

When he locked eyes with one of the hooded figures, he quickly shut the window out of fear. He pulled the dirty, beaten curtains in and slumped down against the wall, shaking. He had never seen another human outside of his current family. He didn't know they could look so scary. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

But he pushed all of that aside now. Sid had picked him up off the floor and was trying to explain how to throw a punch like them. Sid was his favorite. He was big and muscled but he could also be gentle if he needed to be. He trusted Sid. Even looked up to him as a father figure, almost. He had skimmed through picture books about fathers before. They seemed nice.

"C'mon, Sid, what're you doin'? Think he's gonna be some warrior ninja or somethin'?" Sid only chuckled, watching as Zhàn tried to mimic his kata.

"I dunno, maybe he could!"

Just then the door burst open, the locks shattering. The three men stood up, Sid stepping in front of Zhàn. The little turtle peeked around. It was the same men he had seen out the window earlier. The tallest of the hooded figures clicked his tongue.

"'Ey, there he is! C'mere little guy-"

"Step off, _Red Tigers_." Sid warned. Zhàn remembered hearing something about the Tigers; mainly that they were the rivals of his family. The tallest of the Tigers laughed.

"Lay off, Sid." He approached Zhàn with an outstretched hand. Zhàn hissed and snapped. "Woah, little fighter is he?"

"Get back to your turf and we won't have any problems, got it?" Fong said, raising his fists anyway. The three Tigers only laughed.

"Kid want's a fight, huh? Fine, we'll give ya one!"

The scrabble began, and Zhàn was pushed aside and watched the fists fly and weapons glinting. They never used weapons around him like that. He had never seen glinting metal come flying away with blood splatter. Fong's knife slipped and landed inches from his face. Zhàn pulled himself inside his shell, feeling small and helpless.

Suddenly the ground shrank from below and he could hear shouting.

"We got 'im, come on!"

"See ya, losers! Thanks for the quick cash!"

The cold New York air shocked the little turtle. Zhàn lept from his shell and chomped on his assailant's arm. He dropped him, cracking the bottom of his shell, and he darted. Yet he was picked up again, shoved in to a small crate, and locked inside.

"Aw, man." The tallest of the Tigers groaned, shaking his bleeding arm. "That guy at the fair isn't gonna pay us enough for this little shit." Zhàn bounced around in his tiny cage, but nothing worked. The anger masked his fear.

What would happen now?


End file.
